


Bad Moon Rising

by Sath



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Halloween, M/M, a loving ode to the Halloween event skins, an endangered chair, costumed sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sath/pseuds/Sath
Summary: Halloween's not a good night for dirty work, or meeting the dead.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eehn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eehn/gifts).



“Nice Reaper costume, man!”

The kid looked a few scraggly mustache hairs away from fifteen. Not worth anyone’s attention.

“Thanks,” Reaper replied, his voice startling the kid into skateboarding off.

Halloween made Reaper’s skin itch. Even unmasked, he could move around without suspicion, but that meant people tried to talk to him. It was after dark in Los Angeles; no one should be talking to a guy dressed like a terrorist. He’d found himself wandering back to his old neighborhood. Not much had changed. Parents were taking their kids out to trick or treat, but the houses looked a little more faded. Almost everyone giving out candy was grey-haired, and the neighborhood would probably go to shit once enough of them died and left the houses empty. No one wanted to live in shabby pre-Omnic housing anymore.

He came to a stop when he turned onto his own street. No—Gabriel Reyes’s street. Reaper didn’t have family anymore. It didn’t matter that if he walked for another five minutes, he could terrify his mom and dad in the same living room where he’d announced he was joining the Marines. His mom had cried. She didn’t know yet that wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to her son.

Reaper allowed his body to dissolve and reformed on a distant roof. He didn’t want his parents to see him, as if they’d somehow know the armed freak was their son. His father came to the door to give out candy to a bunch of kids with the bad taste to go as Overwatch. Good thing Reyes had been pushed out before he could end up on all the posters. The kids’ chaperone was dressed as Jack Morrison, which was just bad fucking taste. And the coat was obviously cheap.

Soldier: 76 had driven the Meurtos gang all the way up to Los Angeles, leaving Reaper to follow behind. The gang had been pressed hard and was hiding with its tail between its legs, trusting that the sprawl of the city could keep them safe. It wouldn’t. He wondered a little what Los Meurtos had done to piss 76 off so bad.

Rumor was that 76 was Jack Morrison, back from the dead to disappoint everyone by going rogue. Of course it was Jack. Reaper knew it from the first blurry security footage of 76 stealing a pulse rifle. The visor he wore gave him a funny, bird-like twitch of his head because it made his peripheral vision total shit. It was stupid to be relieved about seeing Jack again, after everything that happened.

So Reaper took a few moments to be sentimental, and then added Soldier: 76 to the list. He watched trick or treaters come and go, thinking his dad looked a hell of a lot older than eighty. That’s what outliving your children can do to you. Gabriel had given plenty of parents the news, which made it easy to picture how Mr. and Mrs. Reyes took their son’s death. He’d always hoped Jack would’ve been around to tell them Gabriel was dead. They liked him, and he was good at making a casualty seem like it got somewhere.

Reaper dropped his hands to his shotguns when he saw a shadow dart down the street. The silhouette was 76’s. What the hell was he doing? Paying Gabriel’s parents a visit? He had no right. But 76 didn’t make it up to their door either; he climbed up onto the roof of the 7-11 that’d closed ten years ago and took a seat. Reaper was out of 76’s line of sight, and he wasn’t wearing the visor. 76 reached into his jacket for a cigarette and lit up, staring down the same driveway Reaper had been for the past hour.

It was hard to see his face at a distance, to really know how Jack had changed after the “accident.” There were scars, maybe. Reaper wouldn’t allow himself to get closer.

Fuck. He didn’t know which of them was more pathetic: 76 for stalking his dead ex’s parents, or Reaper for just sitting there and letting him. The last time they’d been around each other for Halloween, Gabriel had helped Jack with his costume, because he refused to let him go as Evel Knievel two years running.

 

* * *

 

“No one even knows who Evel Knievel was these days,” Gabriel said, powdering Jack’s nose. He was just about finished giving Jack the right graveyard complexion, and it looked good, even after Jack complained about getting make-up in his eye. Jack had mostly behaved, shelving his normal impatience to sit across from Gabriel so he could make him undead. Gabriel wouldn’t let Jack know about the colored contacts until the last minute, though.

“You didn’t even know who Evel Knievel was,” Jack replied.

“I wasn’t raised in Indiana. Thankfully.”

“Indiana’s not so bad.” Jack smiled as Gabriel used his fingers to smear gray foundation across his lips.

“Wrong.” Gabriel had never set foot in Indiana. “The food’s bad.”

“Sauerkraut doesn’t do it for you?”

“Nah. Kimchi’s a much better way to pickle cabbage.”

“Don’t tell Reinhardt.”

Holding Jack by the chin to keep him still, Gabriel reached for the spray-on hair color. Luckily, Jack’s hair was light enough that the stuff actually worked, giving him the white hair of the old man he probably wouldn’t live long enough to become. Gabriel ran his hands through it, rubbing the dye in and tousling it into something that read more “evil” than “grown-out buzz cut.” Jack closed his eyes in pleasure, leaning forward until Gabriel had to kiss him. They weren’t supposed to be doing this, but Overwatch sure as hell wasn’t a conventional military operation. And they’d thought they were going to die in the SEP, so that didn’t count either.  

Jack climbed into Gabriel’s lap, all enhanced six feet of him, making the poor wooden chair creak in protest. He tasted like licking the bottom of a cosmetics bag and Gabriel didn’t give a fuck, just pushed his tongue past Jack’s lips and slipped his hands down the back of Jack’s red leather pants. Gabriel was already turned on, because Jack was honestly dressed like an undead stripper and doing some sort of non-Indiana endorsed grind against Gabriel’s crotch.

“We’re already running late,” Gabriel said.

“CO’s always on time,” Jack replied, unzipping his pants and taking out his hardening dick. Gabriel wrapped his right hand around it, stroking Jack roughly.   

“Don’t remind me about that right now, Morrison.”

Gabriel headed off Jack’s incoming “yes, sir” by circling his finger around Jack’s hole. That earned him a grunt and left Jack pleasingly tongue-tied, because he apparently couldn’t talk and wiggle his ass at the same time. Gabriel entered him dry, pushing his finger in while Jack bit down on Gabriel’s earlobe, panting and fisting his hands in Gabriel’s shirt. It wasn’t the side of Jack that was sold off to the public, but it was the one that had Gabriel mumbling awkwardly in an interview when he was asked about “the inspiring friendship of Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison.” Yeah, Jack was a great friend.

“Did you pick this outfit,” Jack asked, reaching for Gabriel’s fly, “so you could fuck me in it?”

“I thought it’d wait until after the party.”

Jack was frustrating him, kneading his palm against Gabriel’s clothed dick instead of jerking him off. “We can do it again. Just take off the pumpkin mask first.”

“You don’t want me to keep it on? I can get you up in front of the mirror, give you a fright while I pound your flat ass.” Gabriel pressed up hard against Jack’s prostate, making him shudder and thrust into Gabriel’s hand.

“It’s not that flat,” Jack mumbled, teeth back at Gabriel’s neck, sucking a line of marks that’d be covered up by the costume. Jack was such a goddamn biter, and he’d just laugh when Gabriel said he was using him like a chew toy.

The last time Jack had been off for a few weeks at a time, Gabriel had tried to make do with porn, titled things like _Thirsty Blond Hunk Moans For Hairy Bear Daddy_ and even, with a massive amount of guilt, _Jock Morris Takes Every Inch of Reinhard Cockhelm: An XXX Overwatch Parody._ Nothing had worked too well.

“I’m going to ruin your costume,” said Jack.

“I’ll make you clean it up with your tongue.”

With a snort, Jack replied, “Not much of a threat.”

“I was being forgiving,” Gabriel said. Jack was too close to argue; Gabriel could tell by how his body was starting to go pliant while he took Gabriel’s shoulder in a death grip. “Don’t actually jizz on it.”

Jack covered Gabriel’s hand with his own, moving in time with him. God, Gabriel hoped the chair didn’t break before Jack finished, because it was groaning even louder than Jack. On the other hand, Gabriel’s shoulder might go before the chair did. Jack squeezed hard enough to bruise as he came in Gabriel’s hand. The chair survived. Gabriel reached for the rag he’d been using to touch up Jack’s face so he could wipe off his hand before anything dropped onto his expensive costume. Jack kissed Gabriel again, slow and satisfied. Gabriel wondered how much of Jack’s make-up had gotten on him; his mouth probably looked like it’d come off a corpse by now.

“You’re starting to look a little washed out,” Jack said, rubbing his cheek against Gabriel’s.

“I’m going to have to redo your whole face.”

“I’m about to rub the rest of it off on your crotch.”

Clambering off Gabriel’s lap, Jack quickly got on his knees and finally pulled Gabriel’s cock out of his boxers.

“You’ll make me look like I dipped my dick in ashes,” Gabriel muttered, getting his hands back in Jack’s freshly silver hair as he licked at the head of Gabriel’s cock.

“Great, you can make a grim reaper costume next year and start from here.”

It wasn’t a terrible idea. Gabriel exhaled in relief when Jack finally got his mouth around Gabriel’s cock, hollowing out his ghoulishly colored cheeks. Would’ve been even better if he’d gotten Jack’s contacts in first, but the blue eyes staring up at him were good enough. Jack took Gabriel in until his nose was pressing against Gabriel’s pubes, leaving a gray smudge behind. Happy Halloween, Commander Reyes. Gabriel tugged at Jack’s hair, pulling him off just a little so he wouldn’t gag himself trying to ruin his make-up. Jack was stubborn, his hands kneading at Gabriel’s thighs as he sucked him off, all the gray rubbing off his lips and leaving them invitingly pink.

“Do you wanna swallow?” Gabriel asked, even though he already knew the answer. Jack nodded, moaning a little as he flicked his tongue against the shaft of Gabriel’s dick. Gabriel moved his hand down to the nape of Jack’s neck, curling his fingers around the collar of his jacket because he needed to hold on to something that he wasn’t afraid to break. He came down Jack’s throat, thrusting shallowly into his mouth as he felt like he was being emptied out. Jack swallowed everything, tonguing the last of the mess off Gabriel’s dick. The first time Jack had given Gabriel head, he’d been so exhausted and sleep-deprived that he’d nearly said, “Good work, Morrison” before he caught himself.  

“Alright,” Gabriel said. “Sit down so I can put all this shit back on your face.”  

 

* * *

 

Over an hour later, 76 was still spying on Reaper’s childhood home. The trick or treaters had thinned out. His sister dropped by, probably to make dinner and clean up. She never let Gabriel forget that she had stayed in Los Angeles to take care of their parents while Gabriel had left, because saving the world from the Omnic Crisis wasn’t a good enough reason to go. Reaper was proof enough that she’d been right—it hadn’t mattered in the end what the hell Gabriel did.

“Always knew you’d get a receding hairline,” Reaper said to himself. “And your hair went gray before mine did. I think.” He didn’t look in the mirror much these days.

76 was vulnerable without his pulse rifle. He wasn’t expecting anyone to interrupt whatever nostalgic mood he was in, stalking Gabriel Reyes’s family on Halloween and smoking a second cigarette. That was a new habit, which meant that Jack could change as long as it didn’t do anyone any good.

Not here. They wouldn’t fight here. Reaper would wait until they could end things properly, instead of whatever this was.

Then 76 turned around, looking directly at Reaper’s hiding spot. Reaper held still, not believing that 76 could have really seen him. But 76 lifted his hand to his face, palm out, waving up and down.

It was the signal to cease firing.   

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated birthday, Eehn! Have some sad dad porn.
> 
> UPDATE: for my own birthday, Suzannart illustrated this and I love it and oh my gosh the circle is now complete check it out [here](http://suzannart.tumblr.com/post/153832348047).


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